Luyện nghe bài hát Halftime (Butcher Remix)

Check me out y'all, Nas in your area
About to cause mass

Before a blunt, I out my fronts
I start to front, matter of fact, I be on a manhunt
You couldn't catch me in the streets without a ton of
That's Malcolm X catching the Jungle Fever
King poetic, too much flavor, I'm
and braver, I pull a number like a pager
Cause I'm am ace when I face the
40 is the place that is giving me grace
Now wait, another dose and you be dead
And I'm a Nike head, I wear chains that the feds
And ain't' a thing gonna change
I'm a a strange show the mic wonder was born the game?
Nas, why did you do it
You know you got the mad fat when you rhyme, it's halftime

It's

It's that, you know it's like that
I got at him, now you never get the mic
When I attack, there ain't an army that could back
So I never calmly on a hype track
I set it off wit my own
Cause I'm as ill as a who kills for phone time
I'm max cassettes, I flex like sex
In your stereo sets, Nas catch wreck
I used to hustle, now all I do is and strive
I was young, I was a fan of the Jackson 5
I jewels, wear jewels to never run it
Wit more kicks than a in a mother's stomach
Nasty Nas has to rise, kid,
This is til the microphone dies
Back in '83, I was an MC
But I was too to grab the mic's in the park and
Kick my little 'cause I thought niggas wouldn't understand
And now in every jam I'm the man
I rap in front of more than in the slave ships
I used to watch C.H.I.P.S, now I glock clips
I got to have it, I Mr Magic
Versatile, my style switches like a
But not a bisexual, I'm an
Of rap, I'm a and that's no question, yo
These are the lyrics of the man, you can't near it,
'cause in the streets, I'm well like the number man
In my wit the bass and format
Explore rap and tell me Nas all that
And next I rhyme, I be fouled whenever I freestyle
I see niggas say I'm wow
I hate a rhyme biter's
Stay tuned, Nas, the real rap comes at halftime

It's

I got it going on, even flip 'em on this
afternoon, I kick half the tune
And in the darkness, I'm like when the narcs hit
Word to Marcus Garvey or Sparkton
'cause I blast the herb, that's my word
I be slaying them fast, doing this, that in the
But chill, past the entree and lay
I bag up at John Jay and hit a matinee
Putting on 5-0
Cause when my time to go, I wait for God wit the fo-fo
And biters can't come
And yo, go to to the foul cop who shot Garcia
I won't plant seeds, don't need an mouth I can't feed
That's extra change, more cash for that weed
This goes out to Manhattan, the island of
Brooklyn, is living fat and
The Down, enough props, enough clout
will, rest in peace, yo, I'm out

It's still